


A Clear and Present Longing

by Emiline



Category: The Worst Witch (TV 2017)
Genre: Confessions, F/F, Pining, Unresolved Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-08
Updated: 2020-08-08
Packaged: 2021-03-06 05:06:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 762
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25787794
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emiline/pseuds/Emiline
Summary: In which which Ada and Hecate pass a quiet afternoon together, and Hecate engages in some champion-level pining.
Relationships: Amelia Cackle | Ada Cackle/Hardbroom
Comments: 5
Kudos: 30
Collections: The Hackle Summer Trope Challenge





	A Clear and Present Longing

**Author's Note:**

> For The Hackle Summer Trope Challenge, Week 7: Confessions.

Hecate and Ada sat in companionable quiet in Hecate’s sitting room, the pitter-patter of a gentle spring rain and the scritch of their pens filling the room.

Hecate glanced up from her marking long enough to see Ada stifling another yawn.

“Why don’t you lie down for a few minutes?” Hecate suggested. “It’s only two-fifteen.”

“Maybe that would be a good idea,” Ada admitted. “I don’t know why,” she yawned, “gosh, I’m so tired.”

Hecate summoned a light blanket and held it out.

“Thank you. Will you wake me in a half-hour if I’m still asleep? I don’t want to lose the entire afternoon.”

“Of course. Sleep well.”

Ada stretched out on the sofa and drew the blanket around herself. In a few minutes, she had dropped off.

In twenty-five minutes Hecate had completed her first stack of marking and set it down, standing up and rolling her shoulders. 

Ada shifted in her sleep. Hecate itched to reach out and brush her hand across Ada’s cheek. Instead, she took a deliberate step back, clasping her hands behind her back.

It took her breath away, sometimes, how beautiful Ada was. Her eyes lingered for a moment and she turned away.

She picked up the next stack of marking and forced herself to begin on it.

* * *

A crack of thunder pulled her out of Joanna’s essay on the lesser-known properties of pond weed. She blinked, the room having grown quite dark outside her pool of lamplight. 

Ada stretched and sat up.

“What time is it?” Ada asked, rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

“A quarter to four,” Hecate replied.

“You were supposed to wake me,” Ada frowned.

“I know, but you’ve been working so hard lately and you looked as though you needed it. I was just going to let you sleep a little longer, but I must have lost track of time.”

“I do feel much better,” Ada admitted. “And if I looked that haggard,” her lips twitched, “then perhaps you were right to let me recover a little.”

“That’s not what I meant,” Hecate replied, mortified, “You always look beautiful Ada it was just that you seemed…” she trailed off, hearing the words that had come out of her mouth. _Oh no_.

“I was joking,” Ada smiled, “not fishing for compliments, though that was very prettily done.”

Relief and disappointment warred within Hecate. Surely it was better that Ada had believed Hecate’s words to be encouraging rather than heartfelt? It meant that Hecate’s secret was safe, at any event. Even if she had the courage to repeat it, would Ada believe her any more a second time? _Of course she would not_ , Hecate told herself. _She doesn’t think of you in that way._

“If we’re going to continue marking, we’ll need more light,” Ada observed. “Do you mind?”

Hecate shook her head, and Ada brought the lights up. The rain began pounding even harder against the window.

“A good day to be inside,” Ada observed.

They set back to their marking, but Hecate found that she could no longer concentrate, even through force of will. Her eyes kept straying to Ada.

“Something on your mind?” Ada asked.

 _Someone,_ Hecate thought ruefully. “I think I might need to take a short break. I am unable to concentrate," she confessed.

“Hecate Hardbroom, voluntarily seeking a break?” Ada smiled. “I never thought I’d see the day.”

“Oh, I’m full of surprises,” Hecate replied.

“Indeed? Do tell.”

Perhaps this is what flirting with Ada would be like. A cold fear gripped Hecate as she quickly reviewed the conversation. Had she actually been flirting with Ada? She’d meant to banter only but—she wasn’t sure.

“Another time, perhaps,” she replied, some of her anxiety slipping through.

“Did I say something?” Ada asked, searching Hecate’s face.

Hecate shook her head. “It’s not you.”

“Then is it something I can help you with?”

“I’m afraid not.”

An awkward silence stretched between them.

“If there is something, or if the situation changes, will you allow me to help if I can?” Ada asked tentatively.

“Yes,” Hecate managed. “Would you—I fear I am not very good company at the moment.”

Ada nodded, stood and folded the blanket neatly. “Thank you for sharing part of your afternoon with me.”

Hecate knew she should say something, anything, but the lump in her throat was obstructing all speech.

At the door, Ada turned back. “I always enjoy spending time with you, you know,” she added softly.

“As do I,” Hecate got out. “See you at dinner?”

“I’ll save you a seat,” Ada promised.


End file.
